Keep To The Shadows
by Madeleine Van Helsing
Summary: Perrie is just a normal girl, but one day, she bumps into a dark and handsome man who takes over her life and fills her days with the most unusual romance.
1. Part One - Love

Keep To The Shadows (A 'Vampire Diaries' Fan Fiction)

The wind is in my hair, and the sun is in my eyes. I run as fast as I can, without stopping. Without looking back. I have only one thing on my mind. One word. A name. I can't forget it.  
Damon.  
A week ago, I met a man. He was around eighteen or nineteen. Strait, short, slick black hair. Pale skin, cold to the touch. Perfect eyes, a piercing blue. Fun and cheeky, but knows when to be serious. Oh, Damon. The day I met him, I was in a short skirt, and low-cut blouse. Because we were at a party, I had dressed up a bit, with fancy make-up and high, high, heels. He was in his normal clothes. A black shirt, black jeans, black shoes, and a black leather jacket. He likes black. I had fallen for him immediately. He flirted and played, and I laughed and admired. Before I knew it, he had taken me outside and kissed me. We're dating now, though I've never been to his house, but he comes to mine whenever he wants. He can move very fast and seems to appear, or teleport a lot. It's quite unnerving, but it doesn't really bother me too much. Sometimes, veins appear under his eyes, and I swear I could see his teeth sharpen, but I don't mind. Most of the time, I pass out when that happens. I don't know why, but I guess it's because I'm light headed around him. The weird thing is, when I wake up, I have bite marks. I don't pay attention to them, but they're there, and people get worried for me because of them. They say Damon hurts me, but I know he doesn't. He wouldn't.  
Today, he texted me again. He said he was bored and there was something he wanted to tell me, so now, I've got to get to him. I don't like to keep him waiting, and I want to know what he wants to say.

It takes five minutes to get to the house he stays in with his younger brother, Stefan. They both wear these weird rings. Damon said I might own one some day, but he doubts it. I race up the drive, past Damon's black open-top car. When I get to the door, I knock. Damon told me not to ring the bell. He said that if I knock, he'll know it's me. So, I knock five times in a row. Fast and loud. Two seconds later, he opens the door, and without a sideways glance at me, hurries me in and up to his room.  
"Perrie." He closes the velvet drapes over the windows as I sit down on the end of his king-sized, four-poster bed.  
"Perrie?"  
"Yes?" He turns to me, looking me in the eyes. I see a glint as his eyes turn slightly silver, and I smile. When this happens, I know I'm about to black out.  
"I need to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone. Not even Stefan, or your friend, Melody."  
"I won't tell anyone," I hear myself say, as if it's from someone else's mouth. I know what's about to happen. I won't remember what he's about to tell me. That's why I won't tell anyone. But I always remember a little while after. I only forget if he wants me to. I know this because I black out, and when I wake up, something's missing. A hole in my memory. But I don't tell anyone. I don't want to. I don't need to.  
"Good." His voice is distant, and I can feel myself fade. I wonder if he's going to let me remember. I wonder if I'm good enough to never forget. But I know I'm not.

I yawn as I wake up. I'm still tired, but I guess I stayed up too late again. Opening my eyes, I see a large wooden dresser. I'm in Damon's bed. I role over and put my arms around him. He's still asleep, so he doesn't move. I lie with him for a minute or so, before he opens his eyes, and turns his head, to look at me.  
"Morning," I smile, as he sits up, stretching and messing up his always-perfect hair.  
"Morning," he replies, and stands up. I still marvel at how he just gets up in the mornings, without grumbling about how tired he is, or how early he was woken. I see him watching me, and know I should get up too. So I pull back the covers, ignoring a new bite mark on my hip, and start gathering our clothes up, from off the floor. His eyes don't stray from me as I clear, and I can tell he's smirking.  
The pervert.  
I smile to myself, and put the clothes down on the bed, before changing back into mine. Damon's started looking through his drawers, picking out fresh clothes for the day.  
"Damon?" He looks over to me, and grins cheekily when he sees my worried face.  
"What's wrong, Perrie," he asks, coming over and wrapping his arms round my waist.  
"Are you going to kill me?" His face falls solemn, and I know what he's going to say.  
"Maybe."  
"What can I do to change that to a 'No'?" He smiles again.  
"Nothing." I sigh, and he kisses my cheek.  
"If you're _really _well behaved, I will spare you. Remember, I'm a vampire. I'll feed off you without a second thought." I shiver at the mention of his kind. _Vampire_. He had told me last night. I don't know why he told me, but he did. He told me everything. That Vervain makes vampires weak so stay away, his ring keeps him from burning in the sunlight, he can only enter a human's home if they have invited him, any wooden object that can pierce the skin is dangerous because it could be used as a stake, and then he's dead, and he could _turn_ me if he wanted to by making me drink his blood and then killing me. I would wake up again and have to feed off a human, and then I would be like him. Unbelievable speed and the ability to hypnotize along with it. Deep in thought, I don't notice him taking his arms from my waist, and unravelling my thin, light green scarf I'd put on a minute back. Of course, I _do_ notice, when his starts to tip my head away from him, and veins start to appear under his reddening eyes. I gasp, pulling away from him, and he stands, steadying me by gripping my shoulders.  
"Perrie. Don't fight. I need to feed. Don't be scared of me. I'll make you forget about this." My eyes widen involuntarily, and he looks completely serious. He hardly ever is. I shake my head and he glares at me.  
"I don't want to forget," I tell him, and he sighs. But then, so fast it leaves a ghost image where he had been, he sits down on the bed, pulling me back and digging his teeth into my neck. He told me not to be scared. I am not. He told me not to fight. I am not. He told me he needs to feed. I shan't deprive him of that. It's a _need_, not a want. It hurts like hell, but I don't scream. I let him do what he must, and try not to stare when he backs off with my blood running down his chin. I try to say something to let him know I'm fine, but all that comes out is,  
"You don't have very good table manners, do you?" He grins at me. His teeth are black with it, and I have to look away.  
"I told you not to be scared." I look back at him, and he's smiling so kindly, I have to lean in and hug him. I can feel my blood running down my neck, and he pulls away from me, stroking his hands across my wound and licking it off his fingers. I sit, watching him, and a voice in my head is screaming at me to run away from him, but I don't. I love this man. I'm not going to leave him. His eyes are closed, and a smirk hovers on his blood stained lips. I stand up and he doesn't seem to realize. I turn to leave, not really knowing what I'm doing. I lift my foot to take a step forward, but it sets itself back on the floor, as his red fingers softly curl around my brown ones, and squeeze gently, in such an affectionate way, I can't bring myself to try and go again.  
"Perrie…" His voice is whispered, and it's right behind me. My heart stops beating as he slowly puts his other hand on my hip, and sways me slightly from side to side. I close my eyes, imagining us on a dance floor. He sweeps me across the room, and spins me round before lifting me up, and throwing me into the air. I'm not sure what's happening, now. I have fallen on the floor, and it's soft. He sits beside me, and lifts me up to him. I open my eyes and I'm on the bed again. His eyes are red, and veins spread out beneath them. His teeth are sharp and pointed. This is so much like him; I have to fight myself to keep from rolling my eyes. But this time, it's different. He looks like he's fighting it. I place a hand on his cheek, gazing into his eyes. He stands up, dropping me back to the bed. I sit, watching him open the window for air, and pacing the room.  
"What's wrong," I ask. He turns to look at me, and his veined red eyes are turning normal, then vampire, human, and then vampire again. He glares at me.  
"Why are you fighting it?" He leaves the room, and comes in again a few seconds later with tissue paper. He throws them at me.  
"Clear yourself up. I can't take any more of your blood." As I dab at the blood on my neck, I watch him stand at the window, trying not to smell my blood.  
"Why," I ask again.  
"If I take any more, you'll have lost too much blood. You're almost dry, Perrie. I don't want you dead right now." I can't help but smile.  
"Should I go, then?" He nods, and leans farther out the window. I stand up again, and walk towards the door. Just before I close it behind me, I turn to where he's trying to ignore me.  
"I love you, Damon." He glances beck to me, a look of intense irritation on his face.  
"Yeah, whatever," he mutters, and looks away again. I smile sadly, and close the door. As I've cleaned up all the blood now, I start wrapping my scarf round my neck again. I walk into the grand, wide hallway, and start towards the large entrance doors. As I plod past the living room door, I catch a glimpse of Stefan. He's slumped on a sofa drinking what is probably the blood of some woodland animal. Damon says he refuses to drink from humans. He looks up at me and his eyes follow me past the door. As I leave the building, I can't help but wonder why Stefan looked so sad.

'_Mel_'. I sigh and press read text.  
'_Where r u? U missed school again. Worried 4 u. Come round mine, k? C u in a min._' I smile, and reply.  
'_K. B right over, luv u_'  
I scramble out of bed, and change into clean clothes, making sure to wear a fresh scarf. I have plasters over my bite marks to stop me loosing any more blood, but I'm still light-headed and a bit dizzy. I stumble downstairs, and eat a couple of sandwiches. Then I get a few things in a handbag and go to leave. I'm walking down the narrow hallway, when my cousin, Dean, comes out of the kitchen/sitting room. He's 20, and my legal guardian since my parents died. Dad had died from a drug overdose, and mum had died in childbirth. My divorced Aunt Cathy had disappeared along with a young Asian man a few years ago, so Dean looks after me now. He's very responsible, but not very strict. He catches me as I fall into him.  
"Perrie, where the _hell_ are you going? You should be in bed." I smile up at him, and get back to my feet.  
"Melody texted. I'm going round hers." He shakes his head, smiling slightly.  
"_I'll drive _you, Little Fox." Little Fox is his nickname for me, because, when I was 15, I went for a walk in the woods with Melody, and brought back a baby fox whose parents had been shot. We'd sent it to a place where they look after wild animals, and I'd missed it for weeks. As he leads me out, towards his little sky-blue Ford Hatchback, I remember the way the fox had eaten from my palm and drank from my old baby bottle. We climb into the front seats, and he starts the engine. I watch his hands as he starts pulling out of our drive. It used to be a front garden, but we dug up the hedge and put down gravel when Dean got a car. At the end of the road, there seems to have been some kind of crash, and a small traffic jam is forming. As we sit in silence, I start to feel slightly awkward.  
"Dean, do you like Damon," I ask, determined to make conversation. He looks over to me and shrugs.  
"Do you like Stefan?" Again, he shrugs.  
"Dean, talk please. I want to know if you like my boyfriend and his family." Dean turns to me. He doesn't look happy.  
"What do you think, Perrie? Damon does…" He gestures to my bandaged neck.  
"This! He hurts you, and controls you. You can't answer most of the questions we ask about him. He hurts you, upsets you, even mind-wipes you! Half the time, you don't even _remember_ what happened to you, and if you did, you wouldn't tell us. And yes, I _do_ like Stefan." He turns back to the steering wheel, and changes gear, angrily. I bite my tongue to stop me from shouting back. I try to keep my voice a reasonable level, and turn my head, glaring at him. I hate fighting with him, but he's so open with his opinions, optimistic, and pessimistic.  
"I love Damon. I wish you could get along with him. He doesn't do this to me. I don't know what does, but it isn't him. I'm glad you like Stefan, but Damon is just as kind, just a bit less open about it. He finds it hard to trust people. That's all." Dean glances over to me, but doesn't speak, so we drive on, in silent anger.

The block of flats where Melody lives is within walking distance, but takes about half an hour on foot. By car, it takes about ten minutes. When we arrive, Dean helps me to the lift, and presses the button labelled '7'. He doesn't say a word all the way up, and only mutters a quick goodbye when we get to room '135'. Melody is waiting outside and waves as Dean goes back into the lift. I grin and walk unstably up to her. She starts to look worried and lifts her hands before her. I watch carefully as she signs out what she can't say.  
'What is wrong?' I shake my head sadly.  
"Nothing…" She raises one eyebrow and I smile at her.  
"Dean thinks it was Damon again, but it wasn't." Melody winces.  
'Damon is not kind to you. I saw Damon hit you.' Walking up to her, I wrap my arms round her in a tight, friendly hug.  
"Why does everyone hate him? He's lovely." Melody smiles at me, and her eyes twinkle in a way that says sorry. In a way that says she knows, but won't tell me. Sometimes, I swear she knows what he is. It's as if she can read my mind. We go into her apartment. It's bright, optimistic, mostly different shades of yellow, and completely compromised. Cheap, second hand things decorate the rooms, making them look expensive and somewhat posh. What would usually be called useless or ugly has been organized and improved, and looks like, or is used as, something anyone would have in their home. _Melody's_ home is _beautiful_. As I sit down on a low but comfy sofa she was given, she wanders off to the kitchen and makes us both tea. She always makes us Vervain tea, since we only like herbal. This is one of the things that make me think she knows about vampires. It looks like she's already made it, because she comes straight back out again, passing me a steaming hot mug. We sit in silence, drinking our tea, before she places her down and starts signing out words to me.  
'I saw Damon yesterday morning.'  
"Really?" I stare at her. She did? What did he say? What was he doing?  
'He was kissing someone. When he saw me, he swore at me, and ordered me not to tell anyone.' I shake my head in disbelief. He would _never_ do that. He's _dating me_. He doesn't swear at people very much, and _definitely _wouldn't at _Melody_.  
"Are you sure," I ask, confusion and devastation written all over my face. Melody looks sad, but nods. For the rest of my stay, we have an in depth conversation about Damon. I tell her everything I know about him, besides anything to do with the vampires. At five o'clock pm, Dean calls round and drives me home, then after a quick shower and taking a painkiller for my headache, I dress up in a short, strapless, dark natural green dress, with a silver belt, silver high heels and a light green dragonfly on a silver hair slide. My thick elbow-lengthed, dark brown hair is down, and in a side parting. I totter out the house without Dean knowing, and walk down to the local nightclub. Melody meets me at the doors wearing a long, strapless, clingy white dress with a slit up to her thigh in one side. Her shoulder-lengthed, ash-brown hair is down, and a huge red flower pulls hair off of her left eye. She has a middle parting. Red high heels poke out from under the hem of her dress, and she has deep red lipstick on. We stay together in case I have to translate her sign language for anyone, and we sit down at the bar and order fruit juice. Neither of us have ever really got properly drunk before, and we prefer non-alcoholic drinks. After a bit of persuasion from a group of young men, we both get up and dance for a while. But soon, I see Melody wondering off. She signs to me that she'll be right back, and disappears in the crowd.

After a while, Melody comes back, claiming to have been going to the toilets.

"Perrie." I groan and roll over, pulling the covers over my head.  
"Wake up, Perrie." I burry my head in the pillow and try to ignore the voice above me.  
"Damon's on the phone." I sit bolt upright, and rub my eyes. Looking round, I see Dean beside my little bed, smiling.  
"He isn't really," he tells me, and I pout at him before hiding myself under the covers again.  
"Come on. Get up," he whines, shaking me roughly by the shoulder. I squeak and try to push him away. He laughs and leaves the room, complaining loudly about how late it is.

A gentle hand touches my arm and moves me softly, side to side. I roll over and Melody is there. She has dark bags under her pale blue eyes and her hair is still scruffy. I smile and sit up.  
"Hi," I say. She smiles wearily, and pats my shoulder.  
'Get up now, please Perrie.'  
"If I must," I giggle and lazily clamber out from under my warm, soft covers, into the cold sharp morning air. I shiver as I wrap my dressing gown round me and slip my feet into my slippers. Melody and I plod downstairs to where Dean is waiting, crossly.  
"How _dare_ you?" He sounds so angry, we cower from him, and he glares at us all the more.  
"You're in no state to be going to nightclubs, Perrie! I can't believe you could be so stupid and careless. I texted Melody to please come and wake you up because it's Sunday and we're going to see Grandma Hilly, and she said to be easy on you, because you were up late. _Dancing_!" I apologize as much as I can, but he just won't calm down, until Melody steps forwards and takes his hands in hers. She looks up, into his eyes, and sways slightly, as if there was slow music playing. Dean watches her, and then joins in. She has that calming affect on everyone. But then, the doorbell rings. I go to answer it.  
"Hi, Perrie. Are you going to invite me in?" He hasn't been invited in yet. I didn't know. His eyes glint slightly and he repeats his question. I nod and invite him inside, stepping out of his way. He walks in and goes upstairs. I follow. I get to my open bedroom door.  
"Wow, you're poor. This place is gross." Damon laughs as he picks dirty clothes off the floor and dumps them in my washing basket. When he's finished, he starts digging around in my drawers. He then lays out an outfit for me on the bed and points to it. I change obediently before he passes me my make-up box. Pink lip-gloss, pink eye shadow, blusher, mascara, etc. When I look awake again, and he thinks I'm pretty enough, he puts a few things in my handbag and pulls me downstairs again. Dean looks so startled as Damon sticks his head round the kitchen door to tell him he's taking me out.  
"But Grandma Hilly?"  
"She can wait," smiles Damon, before glaring at Melody and pulling me out the front door.

I've never been this far away from home since Aunt Cathy left, and it scares me slightly. Countryside whizzes past me, and my hair wipes out behind me. Damon is at the wheel, and the black open top is going so fast, we can hardly go round corners without tipping over, and rolling off the road. We aren't in town anymore, in fact, I don't know where we are at all. Damon seems to be having fun, though. We drive all day, and he pulls over to the edge of the road at around 9 o'clock pm.  
"Where are we," I ask as Damon pulls into a crowded parking lot in an unknown, far off city. He simply smiles at me, and leads me away from the car.

"I'm bored," he tells me later, as we sit at a café with fancy decaf coffees.  
"So I'm gonna jazz up life a bit more. For this, I need your help, because _you_ are gonna do it for me." He grins sweetly at me as I stare at him in confusion.  
"Tonight," he says.  
"I'm gonna call on a friend to do something for me, then you are to do whatever you want, as long as I am with you." He stokes my cheek, kissing me gently, and then laughs at my stupefied expression.  
"Just wait and see," he tells me, in answer to my unasked question.

Cathy. My long gone, well missed, Aunt Cathy. She lives in a large, posh house with nothing but the best. She has several men now, not just the one. Damon and I stand before her in the doorway, as she smirks at us from behind large sunglasses and a pink veil.  
"Damon and Perrie," she smiles.  
"How do you know Perrie," asks Damon. I giggle as Aunt Cathy replies.  
"She's my niece, idiot," she laughs, and invites us in.  
"I'm a witch," she tells me.  
"I'm married into your family. That's why none of you are. Damon comes to me if he needs spells like the ones Emilie Bennet did." Who's Emilie Bennet?  
"Today, he wants a ring that keeps vampires from burning in the sunlight." I nod, but I'm still confused. He's already got one of them, so why would he want another? He wouldn't, unless…  
"Here it is." Damon comes in, holding a large, gaudy ring on a thin silver chain. He walks up to us, and pulls the ring off the chain, and slipping it onto my middle finger on my right hand.  
"Thanks Cathy. See you." He takes my wrist, and drags me out the room. We're almost at the door, when he accidentally hurts me. I can tell he's surprised when I pull my arm away.  
"You don't have to drag me everywhere. I _love_ you, Damon. I'll do as you say without you having to be _rude_." He stares at me for a couple of seconds, and then frowns.  
"Okay," he answered, sounding unsure.  
"I won't be. You only had to say. I didn't mean to be rude." I smile and follow him out.

For the rest of the day, we do whatever, exploring the city, buying rubbish, eating, and going to clubs. Finally, now it's starting to get dark, Damon brings me down a hidden back ally, and leaves me there. He's gone less than a minute before he comes back with a man. Fully hypnotized, he stands still and silent. Damon bites his own arm and holds it out, toward me. I know what he's doing, and I'm not sure why, but I want to be with him forever, and this is the way to do it. I take his hand, and gently drink his blood from the wound. Then I stand ready. He grins. I know he won't feel bad about doing this. He won't even flinch when he hears the snap of my neck. As he breaks it, my vision blacks. I hear, rather than feel the thud of me falling to the ground. The piercing white pain is too much, and I'm out cold, before I fully hit the floor.


	2. Part Two - Hate

Part Two – Hate

What the hell is happening? Where am I? Where's Damon? What happened? Oh yeah. He killed me. Right now, I'm dieing. If I don't feed, I will crumble and… Well… Yeah… Where _is_ Damon? I sit up, holding my aching head and moan a little too loudly when my temples start burning. Instantly, Damon is there. He props up the pillow I had my head on, and helps me sit up. I'm in a bed. It's a bit like Damon's but not a four-poster, and it's double, not king-sized. The walls of this large new room are cream, with a weird floral design. The ceiling is plain white, and the floor is a dark plum carpet, with a simple red ivy pattern. A large chest of drawers stands in one corner, next to a _huge_ wardrobe. A bedside table has been placed at each side of the bed, and the bed covers are all light pink, from the pillowcase to the sheet, and then to the duvet. Damon passes me a glass of what is probably some kind of alcohol, and I politely refuse it. As I sit, watching him scurry about the room doing whatever, I start to remember things. All the times I blacked out, it was him, erasing my memory. Every time, it was because he didn't want me to tell anyone that it was him who was biting me. Him who was feeding of me. Him who abused me and made me forget so I wouldn't leave him, and he could get his cake, _and_ eat it. I shake my head, trying to dispose of this new knowledge. Then I see the man. The one Damon had hypnotised. He wanders out of what is probably an en suit, and sits down on a beige sofa in front of the large windows. The curtains are closed, and I know it's because I don't have a magic ring. But then, I do, don't I? Wasn't that what Aunt Cathy made for him? Was that for me? It must have been. I search for my phone, and text Melody.  
'_Not sur wer I am. Damons trning me. Plz undrstnd.'  
_She texts back almost immediately.  
'_I undrstnd. Dont let him hrt u.'  
_I nod and text her that I won't, then put my phone back in my pocket. Suddenly, I feel a horrible aching in the pit of my stomach. It grows and grows, until it's in my throat. It fills up my insides, and escapes through my lips in low moans. It's so painful, I think I'm gonna hurl! No, I'm starving. I've gotta _eat_! Let me _eat_!  
"I'm _starving_," I whine, determined to be noticed. Damon turns round, and laughs. He grabs the man by the neck, and shoves him onto the bed, before me.  
"Eat then," he tells me, and I shake my head.  
"I'm not a barbarian. I don't eat humans."  
"Don't worry," he sneers.  
"You're not human anymore, so it won't be cannibalism." I glare at him. I don't _want_ this; I just want to live as long as him.  
"I can't." He looks quite shocked, and then smiles sweetly. _Too_ sweetly.  
"I'll start for you, then." He takes the man's arm and pulls him up, digging his fangs into his neck. I scream. Just the sight of this murder. I know I won't be able to withstand the want to feed. No, not want. _Need_. I hate myself right now, as I watch the man's blood drip round my boyfriend's mouth, and spilling out of the wound. I lick my lips, turning my head away, but Damon dumps the man back on my lap, and I have to look back. The smell is unbearable. I have to take some. I dip my fingers into the blood, and taste it. It's amazing. I take some more. Slowly, I pull the man up to me, and sink my teeth into his neck. I'm careful not to chew. I just suck the blood. When I lift my head up again, the blood is round the corners of my mouth, and under my bottom lip, but I must admit, I'm tidier than Damon is. He smirks at me in a way that says he hates me right now. I don't have to show off. But I want to, and I grin at him, showing off my only slightly red teeth.  
"You don't have to be savage. Table manners are important to vampires." I wink at him, playing with his temper, then finish off the man on my lap. I don't feel as bad as I thought I would about this, but I suppose it was Damon who started it. When I'm done, I throw the guy on the floor, and pounce at Damon, who's seated himself on the end of the bed. I sit, and watch as he falls, then starts to lift himself off the floor. Before he's even up on his elbows, I spring to life, and pin him down. He smiles up at me, and I giggle before bending down and planting a kiss on his lips. I lick the blood from his chin, and kiss him again. He kisses me back, and I can feel my face ache. My gums feel like they are bleeding, and it's horrible. I roll off of him and cover my mouth with my hands. He knows, and sits up, wrapping his arms round me, and kissing my neck. I try to ignore the pain, and push him down again, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirrors on the wardrobe doors. My eyes are bloodshot and red, as if I'd been rubbing them, and veins spread out beneath them, blue and purple, and clearly visible through my thin, dark skin. I gasp in shock, and start scratching furiously at my face. Damon grabs my wrists, pulling me down to lie on top of him. I try to take my mind off my transformation, and kiss him deeply, on the mouth. He kisses me back, but it's not working. I tear his shirt open, moving my hands up his cold, pale chest, kissing him more passionately. He suddenly pushes me off him, and shoves me against the wall. I run my fingers across his shoulders and round his neck, as he presses his body against mine, sticking me to the wall with such force, I can hardly breath. I grip his shoulders and push him away from me, trapping him between me and the opposite wall. The lamp on the closest bedside table is broken, and most of the stuff on the dresser is on the floor. I kiss his neck, biting him softly, but still drawing blood. He struggles to undo his belt, so I rip it, pulling it off of him and chucking it on the carpet. He lifts my skirts, pinning my body against him, and biting my bottom lip, seductively. Suddenly, I push him away. I'm not sure why, but I do. I need to think, and he's just messing with my head. I'm a vampire. I'm a _vampire_… He tucks my hair behind my ear and kisses me, gently. I place my hand on his cheek, and gaze into his beautiful eyes. No. I shove him away, leaping onto the bed, and hiding under the covers. The man I killed is still on the floor. I peek from beneath the duvet, and see his dull, lifeless eyes staring back at me. I can't look away. Damon lies down beside me, complaining about how close we got, and how much I had him fooled. I shake myself awake, and roll over, snapping his neck, and letting him fall off the bed. My new speed is coming in handy. I can really surprise people. I smile with satisfaction, and watch as he sits up and glares at me.  
"You tried to kill me," he whispers. Obviously, he's shocked. I shake my head and grin at him.  
"No, Damon. I just tried to shut you up for a second. Thank you." He bites his lip and smirks at me.  
"Why'd you stop? We were going so well. You haven't died until you have vampire sex." I smile again, and pull the covers over my head. I can practically _hear_ him rolling his eyes.  
"Let me sleep Damon. I'm tired and hungry, and in no mood or condition for one of your _games_." He laughs and puts a hand on my arm. I can feel him leaning over me.  
"I'll go get you more dinner then," he whispers, and stands up again, leaving the room.  
"Hi, it's Dean. Sorry, I can't get through to you now. Try calling again later. Leave a message!" I sigh as Dean doesn't answer his phone for the sixth time.  
"Hi Dean. It's me. You aren't answering your phone. What's wrong? I'm not sure where I am at the moment, but Damon is bringing me back now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you, bye." I hang up and go to text him, but I'm stopped by Melody texting me.  
'_Dean out at mo. Left fone. He'll b rit bck._'  
I text her back to let her know that I'll stop phoning him, and to please tell him to call when he gets back. Damon stands behind me, sniggering.  
"What's funny," I ask, turning round to see what he's up to.  
"Nothing…" I glare at him, and turn away again, checking my back in the mirror. He was just messing with me again. I walk to the door, picking up my handbag. Damon follows as I walk out into a long, wide hallway, lined with doors. Every door had a number on it. A hotel. I am in a hotel. What the hell? I walk down the hallway, and across a landing, down a staircase, and out the closest door. A huge car park spreads out before me, and I stop dead in my tracks. Damon walks over to his open-top, and jumps over the door, landing in the driver's seat. He pats the one beside him, and I walk over, climbing in. He pulls out, and drives at such speed, I'm sure we're going to crash. On the journey home, we're pulled over by police at least four times, and every time, Damon hypnotizes them to forget they've seen him. Finally, I start recognising my surroundings. We drive down the street Melody's flat is, and round the roundabout I used to stand on and advertise car boot sales. We pass the place that Melody's sister used to live, and the place Dean wants to live in. Then we drive down the road I live on. Damon pulls into the drive, and I jump out, running to the door. I'm about to open the door, when Dean does. He looks blank. His eyes are unfocused and staring strait ahead of him. I go to hug him, but I've not been invited in, and can't.  
"Dean?" He doesn't reply.  
"Dean, let me in." He steps aside and I stare ahead of me, to wear Melody stands. She isn't acting weird like Dean is, but her wrists are handcuffed together so she can't sign, and her left foot is tied to the radiator. Her eyes are sad and pleading. I try to go in again, but she shakes her head.  
"Oh dear," laughs Damon, standing beside me.  
"Looks like someone invited in an unwanted vamp." I glare at him.  
"What's wrong with Dean? Why is Melody tied up?"  
"Melody's tied up so she can't help anyone, or get in the way. Dean looks like he's been hypnotized."  
"Why?"  
"Because someone wants him to do something he'd disagree to do." I look Dean in the eyes.  
"Snap out of it." I tell him. He doesn't move.  
"Dean, tell me what happened." He looks down at me.  
"Tiger."  
"What?"  
"Tiger," repeats Dean. Damon bites his bottom lip.  
"Oh…"  
"What?"  
"Tiger is an old… _friend_…" I turn to Dean again.  
"Invite us in, Dean." Melody shakes her head. Dean invites us in. Stepping in, Melody starts struggling to free herself. I untie her foot, and she jumps around a bit, to get some feel back in it. I can't find a key anywhere for the handcuffs, so I use my dragonfly hair slide. She instantly signs that Tiger is gone, but he left behind a woman. Damon asks her what she looks like. Long brown hair. Olive skin. Tall. Damon smiles.  
"Isobel." I turn to him and take his hand.  
"Who?"

"Hello, Damon."  
"Hello, Isobel."  
"Who's this?"  
"Perrie."  
"Girlfriend?"  
"Very much so." I watch them from the sofa as they stand before each other and talk. From what I pick up, I guess they had an affair, once. They talk about Isobel's job with folk law in a place called Mystic Falls. They talk about Damon, his past, and their past together, Dean, Melody, Tiger, someone called Katherine. Whoever Tiger is, he doesn't sound nice, and whoever Katherine is, she sounds _horrible_. A past lover, I'm guessing. Damon looks very sad, when she's mentioned. After a while, Isobel takes Damon's hand. She starts pulling him out the room. As she passes Dean, she says that everything's fine, and he can get on with whatever he was doing. Immediately, Dean is his normal self again. Melody runs up and takes his hand, hugging him nervously. He looks at Isobel.  
"Who are you? What are you doing in here?"  
"She's with us," says Damon,  
"And we're going."

We get in the car again. Isobel in the front seat, next to Damon, and me in the back. I sit silently as we drive. I don't say a word for the whole journey, and it takes about three hours to get to wherever we're going. They chat about things I've never heard of, and Isobel is flirting so much, I'm shocked Damon hasn't noticed. Hatred boils up inside me, and I want to leap at her and kill her. I'm _starving_, and she looks so _alive_… Damon keeps looking away from the road to watch her. It's dangerous. He _never_ looks away for me. Why not? Oh, I _hate_ him sometimes. He doesn't love me at all. I'm the only one here with feelings.

Isobel's house is small, but cosy. There are photographs of her and a man. Her husband. She takes Damon into the bedroom, and sits him down on the bed.  
"My husband will home soon, and I can't risk him seeing us. Get it done quickly, and don't leave me here." I glare, and I see Damon bite his arm.  
"No…" I can't say much at the moment, but this is something I can't let him do.  
"No!" He looks over to me, looking as surprised as he would if he hadn't known I was here.  
"Don't do it Damon! Why are you doing this?"  
"She wants to turn," he says, simply. I can feel the veins appear round my eyes. My gums ache again, and my thirst for blood increases at an alarming rate. I can't help myself. I prowl across the room, like a predator. When I'm close enough, I launch myself at Isobel. She has no time to move, and all Damon can do is shout at me to stop. But I'm not under his power anymore. He can't tell me what to do. I feel the warm blood seep onto my hands, and I tear at her flesh. She screams for what seems like an age, before she finally dies. I stand up, my thirst, quenched. I look over at Damon, and he doesn't look impressed.  
"You should practise your killing skills. You're clumsy." I smile, and he kisses my bloodstained lips.  
"I'll finish her off." I nodded, and turned to leave.  
"Go out the window, Perrie."  
"Okay," I reply, though I'm not sure why I shouldn't go out the door. I'm standing on the window ledge, holding the frame, when I hear the door open. Damon's still in there, eating her. I jump down, as he pushes through the curtains, Isobel's limp body in his arms. I land on my feet. Vampires can do that. Fall far, and jump far. Damon lands beside me, and we run towards the corner. We need to get out of sight. I go round first, with my fresh new speed. I peek up at the window, and see him. Isobel's husband. Standing at the window, he's crying. He runs back into the room, then out the door. He sprints down the street, towards us. I turn to Damon, but he's already off. I follow as fast as I can, and we're round three corners before Isobel's husband is round one.

"There we go." I look round to Damon, and he's propped Isobel up against the wall. We are in that town he took me to the day before yesterday. It's dark, now. Very dark. I take my ring off, letting my finger breath. He stands up from where he was surrounding Isobel in whatever belongings he could steal for her. He has placed her in a large house. It's all hers, and nobody here knows her.  
"She'll be fine. When she wakes up, she'll just get on with her life… Erm… Death."  
"You turned her?" He walks up to me, and puts his arms round me.  
"She already had my blood in her. I gave it to her in the car, in case you pulled a stunt like you did. You just sped it up, and made it gorier. She doesn't have anything to help her in the sunlight. I don't have any to spare, and she'll understand that. Come on, we've got to go now." I shrug. I'd killed her for nothing. She was going to turn, anyway. How could I have been so slow? Of course Damon was going to suspect, so of course he would do something like that. I sit next to him on the way home. He keeps his eyes on the road, and doesn't speak. I look over to him regularly, but he seems to have forgotten I'm here. He turns on the radio, and The Beatles is playing. 'All You Need Is Love', one of their most famous songs, belts out of the speakers at top volume. I hang my head, and watch the road whiz past, below me. Damon continues to ignore me.  
"Damon?" I don't know what I should say next, but he doesn't answer, so it's okay. Just, attract his attention, and tell him… Tell him you're bored.  
"_Damon_." He looks over to me. Just a glance.  
"What?" I watch his face. He looks uninterested, and upset that I disturbed his thoughts.  
"I'm bored."  
"Then text your friend, or count blue cars."  
"There aren't any cars."  
"Then text!" I pout. I can't believe that he could be so rude. He's just gone back to driving again. I get my phone out and text Melody.  
'_Damon ignoring me. What to do?_' I have to wait a minute for her to reply.  
'_I don't know. Stand up and imagine flying. Sry, bsy at mo._' I toss my phone aside, and stand up. Damon slows the car down a bit, which comforts me about as much as earplugs on a cold day. I close my eyes and pretend to be an eagle flying over a wide country landscape. I see Damon below me, and dive down, to catch my prey. Something's got my wing, and it's pulling me down. I thump down on my bum, and open my eyes to find we are passing under low trees, and Damon had pulled me down. Then it starts raining. I slide down in my seat, trying to stay warm and dry, and failing miserably. Damon presses a button, and the roof comes up, covering us. He takes his leather jacket off and passes it to me. I put it on, and stare, dolefully out the dark window. Damon pulls over to the side of the road, and turns the engine off. He sits for a long time, just staring ahead and thinking. I watch him, feeling lonelier than I have since Dad died, and Aunt Cathy left. It was all within two years, and I was still mourning dad, when she left. Responsible or what? I gaze into my reflection's eyes, and kind of faze out everything. I'm not thinking of anything. I'm just lost in my mind. Emptiness, silence, cold, surrounds me. Misery, anger, hatred and hunger. Yearning, love, sadness, and Damon's arms. I come back to life (so to speak), and look round. Damon has put his arms about me, and is resting his head on my shoulder. I twist round in my seat, hugging him back. I can feel his soft hair against my cheek and his breath on my neck.  
"I love you," I whisper.  
"I know. I'm sorry." He didn't say 'I love you too'. Why not?  
"Do you love me back?" I know it must sound rude, but I've got to know.  
"Of course."  
"Then say it." He sighs, and I know this upsets him, even if he isn't showing it.  
"I love you too," he whispers back, but it sounds like a lie. It sounds like he's trying, hard, to get the words out. As if he either, doesn't love me but doesn't want to hurt me, or doesn't love me, but still needs me for something. He said he was bored. Maybe this is to rustle things up a bit, and that's the only reason he's here, by my side, resting his head on my shoulder, and telling me exactly what I want to hear. Or maybe he just doesn't know how to say that he loves me. No, he doesn't love me. Of that, I'm sure. I smile anyway, letting him believe he's got me still.  
"I love you more," I tell him.  
"Cheesy," he says, a slight wobble in his voice, as if he's crying, or laughing. I run my fingers through his hair. I know I'm going to loose him soon. I can't stand that. I love this man more than life, but I hate him more than death. I decide to make the most of him, and wriggle closer to him. He sits up, and climbs into the back seats, helping me over, too. We lie down, keeping each other warm, and so close I swear he can hear my heartbeat. Oh, wait. I don't _have_ a heartbeat. Well, if I did, he would be able to hear it. I hold him close, suddenly afraid to lose him. A tear runs down my cheek, and drips off my ear, because I'm on my side. I hear it land on the seat, and so does he.  
"Why are you crying," he whispers, with such sensitivity, and worry in his voice it makes me cry all the more.  
"I don't want to lose you."  
"You're not going to."  
"I know, but it doesn't stop me not wanting to." I feel him smile, and I tighten my grip on him.  
"I'm not letting go," I tell him. He grins, and holds me tighter, too.  
"Nor am I." I smile. He can be so sweet when he wants to be. I close my eyes as he kisses me gently on the lips. When he stops, my eyes remain closed. I won't lose him. If either of us are going to lose the other, it's gonna be _him_ losing _me_. I fall asleep happy, and wake up with memories of a long gone dream about some grand vampiric wedding.

I shake my head, burying it farther into the pillow.  
"If you're not going to talk, you could at least look at me." I shake my head again.  
"What did he do?" More head shaking. Dean sighs, pushing my shoulder huffily. Melody signs something to Dean, and he takes a step away from me. I can hear him whispering, now being able to hear every word.  
"What do you mean 'Turned'? Huh! Vampires aren't real. Melody, stop fooling around. What? You aren't… No, be serious. Huh? No! Well, yeah but… Melody! What? Yeah, right. I know, but… Well, I suppose… No, she's not! Stop saying that! Ugh, I know. I love you. C'mon, let's settle this. She's a vampire. Damon 'turned' her. He's one, as well. Erm, She kills people and drinks their blood, and… Oh my god, she's _dead!_" Melody must have nodded, because he's started breathing very fast, and drags me out of bed. I stare up at them from the floor, squinting in the bright morning light, and adjusting my ring. They stare down at me, and I think I should have told Melody not to tell.  
"What happened to that woman you had with you?" Asks Dean, in a demanding tone. I shrug. He glares at me.  
"She wanted to." I say, shrugging again, and closing my eyes against the light.  
"Please close the curtains."  
"Why? Because you can't stand the sunlight?"  
"No, because it's in my eyes and I can't see properly. I only just… got out of bed?" Dean tears the curtains closed, and stomps back over to me, towering over me, with Melody behind him. I watch them for a while before Dean bends down and pulls back my top lip as if he's expecting to see fangs. He glances at Melody, who shrugs. I roll my eyes. Far to much shrugging. Dean stands up again, glaring down at me, wide-eyed and inquisitive. I stare back, feeling like a cornered rabbit. He takes his pocketknife out of… well… his pocket, and presses it against his hand. I gasp, diving under the covers. I hated blood, but now, I love it a bit too much. I hide my eyes and nose from it, though I'm already drooling at the thought of breakfast. I hear the slight whiz of the metal cutting his skin, and the gasp that he lets out when he feels the pain. Even through the thick blanket, I can smell it, and I feel myself begin to change. I'm new at this. I can't control my cravings yet. What am I supposed to do? What if I kill him? Melody doesn't have to see this. He told her he loved her, just now. Maybe they're dating now? I half hope not, so it won't hurt her so much if he does die. I poke my head out of the covers to see Deans disbelieving, terrified face at my transformation. I'm on my feet in a heartbeat, and grab his hand, taking the blood. I hear Melody leave the room, but I don't really care. I finish my breakfast, and then dive under the covers again, waiting to go back to my usual self. When I am, I peer up at him, and watch his stunned face. He looks down at me, and I disappear beneath the blanket. I can feel the blood round my mouth and I can't let him see me like this.  
"Dean, please get me some tissue?" I hear him leave the room, and I push my hand out, lying it on the floor for him. When he comes back, he puts the tissue in my open palm, and I drag it back in, wiping my mouth, and then peeking out again.  
"Thank you." He just stares at me. I can feel tears stinging my eyes.  
"I'm so sorry. I never planned any of this. I don't want to be a vampire. I would kill myself if I had the guts. Please? It's for _him_. It's for _him_!" A tear rolls down my face, running across my cheek, and dripping off my chin. His eyes narrow.  
"_Damon_…" I forgot how much he hates Damon. I stand up again, walking towards him, but he cowers, and takes a big step away.  
"Dean…"  
"You're a vampire. You're dead. Go away. Out of the house, and don't come back. Damon is more family to you now. And don't come running to me when he dumps you. I'm going to see if Melody's alright. Since we're dating now. And no thanks to you, cousin. When I come back, you are going to be gone. And if you're still here? Well, then I'll drive a stake through your dead, un-beating, uncaring heart." I don't know what to say.  
"I love you, Dean."  
"No you don't." I can't believe I'm hearing him say this. I turn, pulling my suitcase out from under the bed. Dean has left, so I gather everything I really need, and dump my blanket on the pillow. I zip up the suitcase, and fill my rucksack with sentimental things. When I turn, Melody is there.  
'Don't forget to change into day clothes,' she signs.  
'I'm sorry. I wouldn't have you go. But this is Dean's place. You go to mine. You can stay there.' I smile, but I know I can't.  
"Not if you're with Dean now. Besides. I can't go in, unless you invite me, and you can't speak." She sighs, sadly taking my hands in hers.  
"I'll miss you," I tell her, and she nods. She will miss me, and so will Dean. As I walk down the lonely drive, hard sobs shake my body, and I can't see or breath from my painful crying. I walk all the way to Damon's house, before I remember he said he was going away for a few days. I have no choice but to throw myself on the doorstep, and let Stefan comfort me, instead.  
Damon isn't here, so I can talk to Stefan freely. I tell him all about being turned, my suspicions about Damon, how I feel about Isobel, and what Dean did to me. He listens silently and carefully, and calms me down when I'm finished. I can hardly talk through my great shuddering sobs, and I can hardly hear what Stefan's saying, so lost am I, in my grief. Finally, around midday, I've told him everything and I can only curl up and sleep.

"What?" I can hardly hear him talking. I've only just woken up. I rub my eyes, and see that I'm still in the spare bedroom. Stefan is at the door, talking to someone.  
"Hello?" I prop myself up on my elbows, cocking my head, and listening intently. I've been here for three days, and I'm hoping its Damon at last. But it's Melody. She signs that Dean is waiting outside, and she just had to give me something that I had forgotten. She passes me a little box and dashes from the room. Stefan stands beside me as I open it. It's mum's music box. As I open it, Green Sleeves starts to play, and I pick out drawings, photographs, and pieces of jewellery. Dean and I, when we were little. The necklace she wore on her wadding day. The engagement ring and the drawing of Dad, holding me the day after I was born. I put them back in, closing it and locking it safety, hanging the key round my neck, since it was already on a chain. I can't help crying again. Oh, I know I'm pathetic.

It's the best feeling in the world. I sprint as fast as I can, my hair streaming back behind me, and tears running back instead of down. I leap forwards, making him stumble back, but I cling onto him, and he regains his balance. He's not nearly half as glad to see me, as I am to see him. I drag him inside and show him the music box. I tell him what happened with Dean. I tell him what Stefan did to help me. He grunts and makes himself a coffee.  
Why doesn't he care?


	3. Part Three - Forget

Part Three – Forget

"Hello?" My voice echoes of the walls, and back to my sensitive ears. Damon laughs.  
"Where are you?" He doesn't reply. He just laughs again, his voice getting farther and farther away. We are in a cave. He took me here to cheer me up, but now he's just leaving me in here. Suddenly, a warm glow appears in the distance. I run towards it as fast as my vampire skills allow me to. It's a torch. A long stick with one end blazing with fire. Damon is holding it. He grins and leads me deeper down. A woman. A woman around Dean's age. She's sitting in a small round room. Long, ragged brown hair, pale face unseen by the sun, and long spindly fingers, grasping a human carcass. Long yellow fangs dig into the rotting flesh, and as we approach, she darts into a corner.  
"It's okay. It's me," whispers Damon, and she crawls out, unable to support her own weight. She is stone grey with starvation. Vampires need to feed, or they will freeze up and not ever move again. She is naked, and I look away, embarrassed by her vulnerability. She wheezes out a tiny chuckle and hangs off Damon's neck in way of a hug.  
"Who is… she, so… upset by my… freedom?"  
"This is Perrie," smiles Damon, but changes the subject fast when he sees her protective scowl. An ex-lover perhaps? He tells me to stay with her while he goes to get food.

"Tell me… about… self." I look up at her as she watches my blank face with interest and anticipation.  
"Erm…" I don't know what to say. What does she want to know? I look over to her.  
"I would prefer to learn about _you_." I say it as kindly as possible, but still, she doesn't look pleased.  
"My… name. Nymphodora. Now… you tell me… you." I smile, and turn to face her properly.  
"That's a beautiful name. Mine is Perrie, which is rubbish compared to Nymphodora."  
"Wish… was called P… Perrie," Nymphodora says dreamily.  
"Why? It's boring."  
"Better… than Nymphodora… posh… Perrie, sweet and… s-simple." I grin. Nymphodora seems quite nice now. I'm still careful though. Just in case.  
"Well, I'm called Perrie Taylor, I'm seventeen, My aunt is a witch, and my cousin, Dean, threw me out of the house when he found out Damon had turned me. My best friend, Melody, can't speak but she understands everything, even the vampire stuff. My parents are dead, and so are Dean's biological ones. Um… I've been dead for about six days now. My nickname is Little Fox, because I saved a baby fox once… Erm… Yeah." She watches me for a while before she speaks again.  
"You… and Damon? Tell…" I sigh. I don't want to talk about this. I can tell that she knows, but she wants to hear it anyway.  
"I met him a few weeks ago. He hypnotised me and used me to feed off. Then he got bored and turned me. I love him more than anything, but I know he probably _hates_ me by now. I mean I'm not pushy, or over protective… I hope… I'm hardly with him. I think I'm a good girlfriend, but he doesn't seem to care. He's only told me he loves me about once or twice, and only because I asked him too. I'd be better off with Stefan, but I don't love _him_." Nymphodora scowls when I mention Stefan. I ask her why.  
"Used to… know… Loved him… and Damon… Didn't love… back… Damon… he was… more of… a lover than Stefan… ever was… but it was… it was Stefan I… was dating…" I stare at her in disbelief.  
"You dated Stefan," I say as if it's the craziest thing I've ever heard anyone say. She just nods.  
"When?"  
"Back in… World War One…" Wow. World War One was a long time ago.  
"Stefan always seems so sad," I murmur, absent-minded and deep in thought. She looks so pained to hear this; I have to think up a way of changing what I've just said.  
"He was only sad the first few times I saw him. He was just settling down in a new place. Everyone's upset when they have to travel around a lot. Away from friends and… not family, just friends." She looks at me blankly. I shake my head. That was no help whatsoever. Apologizing is all I can do. She holds up her hand to shut me up, and tells me it's fine and she doesn't mind. I apologize again, and she slams her thin, filthy hand against my mouth.  
"Shut it," she snaps. I do. Then Damon comes back in.  
"Here," he says, not noticing what Nymphodora and me are doing. He dumps a large corpse of a big and slightly chubby man down on the floor, and turns to see us. What he sees is a young dark girl with a creepy starving woman's hand over her mouth. He stares for a minute at our startled expressions, and then starts to laugh.  
"He laughs a lot, doesn't he," I say through Nymphodora's fingers. She nods and drags herself over to the dead man, slicing him open with her long fingernails and drinking his blood quickly, before it clots. I shiver with disgust. I would rather have died and not woken up, than become a vampire and murder people or animals with my own two hands, then eat them while they're still warm. It's not just gross. It's also heartless. As she drinks, she becomes less grey. Colour seeps back into her cheeks, and her eyes look brighter and more black-blue than blue-black. She heaves herself onto her feet and walks unstably to Damon.  
"Thank you," she says, smiling with such unexpected radiance, even Damon stares.  
"You're welcome," he replies, then hold his hand out to me. I walk over placing my palm on his. He takes my ring off my finger. I step back again.  
"Come back afterward," I tell him. He smiles at me. I doubt he will. He slides the ring onto Nymphodora's middle finger, and takes her hand, leading her out. I follow them as far as I can go, then sit down just inside the entrance, watching them as she spins round in the tree-dappled sunlight. Her brown hair is now a strong, dark blond, and she's even more beautiful than ever before. The sun takes affect very fast, and now, even Melody couldn't rival her beauty. Me, however, sitting in the cave, unable to step into the sunlight, and burning up just by being so close, I feel like they are going to turn and dance away together, leaving me here with nothing to eat and no one to talk to. But they turn back. Nymphodora walks over to me.  
"I have lived long enough," she tells me, her voice now powerful and articulate. I don't know what she means. She knows it.  
"I have spent years and years in this cave. I have starved and grieved, and I don't want to anymore. Only one of us can walk away from this, since there is only one ring. Here." She steps into the cave and passes the ring back to me. I slip it on my finger and step out, into the light. I boil painfully for a second. My ring isn't on properly. I can see and feel my skin dry up and shrivel. It turns grey and brown, scorching me all the way down to my bones. I step back in, and push the ring as far down my finger as I possibly can. She smiles and starts to walk forward.  
"Stop," I gasp. I know what she meant now.  
"You can't! You just can't! Aunt Cathy is a witch. I'll go to her, get her to make another ring. You can come out, and live a proper death! Please. Don't go in the sun without an enchantment." She just smiles and takes my burnt hands.  
"I don't _want_ to live my death anymore. I want to go. Let me. Be strong, Perrie. Let me go." I can feel tears brewing in my eyes again. Oh, how pathetic can I be? She lets go of my hands, and they fall to my sides. I watch sadly as she steps out of the cave again, and looks up at the sun. Her skin is burning up, just like mine did. I scream at her to come back in, but she smiles and walks to the trees, lying down beneath them, and sighing with such relief, one might believe that it actually felt good. I stare in horror, as I know that she's in agony. After what seems like hours, her breath stops coming, and her tensed muscles let her limbs fall to the ground, motionless and useless. I approach slowly, but jump away in fright as her whole body sets alight and blazes with flames hotter than lava. I scramble away, back into the cave, and watch, dumbstruck, as the fire calms down to reveal nothing but cinders and ashes. Damon doesn't seem affected by this at all. Through out the drama, he stood by the car, eating a block of chocolate. He only seemed slightly miffed that the fire had melted it. He cleaned his hands with a cleansing wipe, and leapt into the car.  
"Come on, Perrie. She's gone. Get over it. You didn't even know her and you're looking like your cousin just died." I turn and glare at him.  
"If my cousin _did_ die, I would have no cause to worry. He hates me now. He hates what I am." He whistles as if I'm over reacting, and starts the engine. I get in, and cross my arms. It's time he saw how I feel about him. I'm giving him The Silent Treatment.

Stefan stands in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall for support. He has the hand that isn't leaning, pressed against his hurting stomach. He throws his head back again, and laughs so hard, he gives himself yet another stitch. Damon glares at him with so much anger, even I snigger slightly.  
"Perrie," he groans. Stefan finds breath between laughter to talk.  
"There's… no p-point! She won't… talk… to y-y-you!" I can't help grinning at how happy Stefan seems to be. I've never seen him laugh this much, and by the way Damon's acting, he's not seen him laugh like this in a very long time. How long _have_ they been vampires, I wonder… Oh! Poor Stefan is crying, he's laughing so hard. I swear he's going to snap a rib! He's bent double! Damon turns, and shakes me hard.  
"Talk to me," he shouts, but I just look at him.  
"Fine," he says.  
"Go." I stare at him. What?  
"Go on then! You aren't going to talk to me, leave. There's no point in living with someone who's never gonna speak to you." I shake my head slightly. Is he telling me to _leave_ as in, never come back? He turns and walks out the room.  
"He's just in a bad mood," says Stefan, who's managed to stop laughing, but judging by his expression, will start again a the next opportunity. I nod and follow Damon out. As the door closes behind me, I can hear Stefan sniggering again. Will he ever stop?

I'm sitting in the bar. I have my rucksack on, and my suitcase sits on the seat beside me. I'm glad this little table is invisible. I need some privacy. I can't believe he actually chucked me out. I can see Melody and Dean by the counter. Melody holds a glass of something clear in her hand, and Dean is kissing her. I look away, to see Aunt Cathy talking with Isabel. I know they're not really here and I'm just seeing things, but it seems very real, and I'm tempted to go up to them and kill them. Drink Aunt Cathy's blood, and drive a stake through Isabel's heart. Then I see Damon. I don't know if he's actually there or not, but he's looking right at my tear stained face, and smirks when I look back at him. I look away, but then he's right there, sitting next to me. I know he's real now.  
"I had to," he tells me, taking my face in his hands.  
"You were losing faith in me. I couldn't trust you anymore." I sigh, pulling away from him, but he holds me even closer.  
"I never loved you. Never. I was using you. Manipulating you. I was bored. I hate you, Perrie. I always have, and I always will. You're not even attractive. I stand up and try walking away. Melody notices me, and so does Dean. They follow me out, because they know I'm walking from Damon. I get out onto the street, and there he is.  
"You forgot something," he grins, holding up my suitcase. I glare at him, as Melody and Dean come out into the open air, and watch us from a distance. I know they can hear every word we say.  
"I don't care," I tell him, and snatch it off of him, chucking it across the path.  
"What a way to treat your belongings," laughs Damon. I try to walk away again, but he can move faster than me, and is always facing me, making me always face him. He is everywhere I look, in all directions, on my every side. I try to run, but he's still there, so finally, I sink down to the ground, in a corner. On one side is a brick wall, on the other is a wooden fence, on another side is nothing, and before me, is Damon. I stand up again, backing into the wall. He grins and walks even closer to me.  
"Hey!" Damon spins round to face Dean, holding part of the fence that he had just broken off. He runs at Damon, pointing the wood at his heart, but Damon pushes him away, no trouble at all. Melody runs up, helping Dean to his feet, then starts trying to distract Damon, for me to run away, but I've had an idea, and it's far, _far_ better. A way to get away from him forever. I brake off some of the fence. Damon turns back to me.  
"You're going to try it as well? Don't bother. You can't kill me." I smile grimly.  
"Oh, don't worry, _Damon_. I'm not gonna kill _you_." His smirk vanishes and Dean starts shouting. I lift the make-do stake, and step towards Damon. He steps away. I grin.  
"Send my love to Stefan," I say, just to annoy him, because I know it works. And then, I stab the stake toward Damon. I know just what he'll do. Reflex brings his hand up, and he bats it away. Towards me. I stumble back, my vision fading. I drop to the floor and I smile up at him.  
"I hate you too," I tell him.  
"Sorry, what was your name again?" And the last thing I see is his wide-eyed, astonished, confused, and _astounded_ face. I feel my body freeze over, just like Nymphodora's did when she was starving. I smile as best I can, and open my eyes as wide as I can. I'll still be staring tauntingly at him when I die. My hearing is getting better, as my vision blots and my senses of touch, taste and smell vanish. I see Melody moving her lips as she always does, as if she can speak. And I hear her voice. It's sweet and soft, with a slight Scottish tinge. She's crying. But she's singing. She's singing me to sleep. I silently thank her, and she hears me, as I hear her.  
"Goodbye," she calls her voice as caring and gentle as a mother's. How is this possible? I suppose I will never find out.

The End


End file.
